Winter Solstice
by BooniesBassist
Summary: Take this key. I got it when I was about your age. My own mother gave it to me. She never told me what the key was for. Something extravagant, I presume. I want you to have it now. Take it and when you find out what it’s for tell me. Oneshot.


Yay! Another lovely oneshot by Snapshot! You're excited, no? Anyway, this oneshot takes place before the strike, I guess. And before the Banner (my long term story). So. Enjoy! Yes!

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So, there he was. Her arms around his neck, her lips on his. She wore one of those wealthy, showy looking dresses, like the ones I used to wear. I felt my stomach flip-flop and I was starting to get seriously sick. So, I stood there and watched them exchange saliva, not knowing wither this was real, or it was just a dream. A nightmare.

"Freckles?" his voice snapped me out of my trace. Their lips had parted and he pushed the blonde-haired dame off of him. She tumbled to the floor and I felt like I should have smiled at her disgust, but I couldn't bring myself to. Instead, I remained standing, like a criminal that had just been caught. Should I run? Should I beat up the whore? Should I pretend like I didn't see it? Who was I kidding? And I'm not even the one who's caught. I opened my mouth to say something that would cut a hole in that low-life's gut and stay with him, forever triggering guilt every time he thought of me. But no. The only word my voice box allowed me to mutter escaped my lips, "Sorry."

I ran. I don't remember if I was followed, or he called after me, but I hit the streets in no time. I knew exactly where I was heading. After many minutes of running, a tall structure rose in front of me. The Brooklyn Bridge. Okay, so it probably wasn't a good idea, considering we'd go there all the time and I've told him about a thousand times it was my favorite place in New York. But that wasn't what occupied my mind right then. My shaking hands let down my long red hair, in attempt to warm my neck and ears. The strong New York winter winds ripped through my hair, throwing it around my head.

I walked about halfway on the bridge and couldn't hold myself up any longer. I stumbled over to the railing and slumped to the cold concrete ground. That was the first time I cried that night. My knees were drawn up to my head, my forehead buried into them as my shoulders heaved up and down. I continued to silently sob until I couldn't any longer. I still held that same position, but my hand wandered down to the ground. I felt a large piece of chipped concrete. Lifting my head, I examined it and ran my finger over it's every rough surface and crack. Sighing I threw it behind me. It took a little while longer for me to hear the tiny splash of it hitting the water.

"Freck?" No. Why was he here? I wanted to be alone and I didn't want to deal with anyone. Especially him. I hesitated looking up for a while, but he neared me and held out a shaky hand. Now I heard his breath, inhaling and exhaling quite loudly. He must have ran here. I felt more tears form in my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away as I stood up myself, without his help. I wasn't going to cry again. When I looked at his face, from what I could make out, his brow was furrowed, as if he was worried. His lip trembled slightly and I couldn't figure out if it was from the cold or resisting tears. "I didn't—"

"I DON'T CARE!" I finally screamed out. He moved towards me, but I winced. I backed away quickly and almost flipped over the railing, but catching myself, I moved forward again. "Spot." Choking slightly, I glared at him, "Why?" I sputtered, "Am I not good enough? Did you want more out of me? You could've asked. Spot!"

He didn't answer me for a long time, so we stood, listening to the wind. I finally started calming down when he spoke, "Freckles. She made da move on me. I'se was at Medda's drinkin' an… she was too. She's justa 'nudda goil, Freck."

I looked him straight in the eye. Was he serious? This was his excuse. "Just anotha goil? Am I anotha goil, too, Spot? Tell me! If she came before me, would you still 'ave seen me? If you knew me after I lost everything, would you still 'ave loved me?" I was screaming now, tears welled up inside of me. The bitter cold stung as he stood there, trying to come up with an answer.

"Look. Of course, Freck. You'se my goil. I love you. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have let 'er seduce me. I should've brought you with me." He shuddered as the cold whipped through his clothes. He moved towards me again.

Yet again, I backed away. "That wasn't a mistake, Spot. That's not good enough." I looked over the edge of the railing. The water roared beneath us. It must be so cold.

"Freck. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I heard his voice start to crack. He lowered his head as if to hide tears, "I promise I won't do anything like that ever again. I promise I'll love ya betta."

I looked at him, then over the edge of the railing again, "You can't promise me that." I slowly lifted my head.

"What're you doin'?" I could clearly tell he was crying now. I noticed I was facing the railing, both hands gripping the steal.

"Spot, there ain't nothin' here for me. I've been here too long." I looked over my shoulder at him.

"Freck?" Spot's voice kept me a little longer, "What're you talkin' about? You have me. We can get married, and I'll take care of ya. Freck? Anne?" I could tell he was trying so desperately to keep me from going.

I laughed at his consistence, "Spot. You'se just a Brooklyn newsie without a penny to your name. 'Sides, you know I ain't da goil to settle down" My laughter disappeared, "I don't wanna place that burden on you. Look, I don't want this all mushy, but go on and live life how you wanna, Spot. I ain't stoppin' you no more." My stomach lurched as I found the familiar chain around my neck and unclipped it. I could see the necklace swinging in the moonlight. A key was looped through the chain. I've had this as long as I could remember. My mother gave it to me on her deathbed. I even remember her exact words. _"Anne, take this key. I got it when I was about your age. My own mother gave it to me. She never told me what the key was for. Something extravagant, I presume. I want you to have it now. Take it and when you find out what it's for tell me. But, when I get better. The doctors said I shouldn't get too excited."_ She never got better.

I took Spot's cold hands and dropped the chain into them. "Spot." I exhaled, "Take dis key. My mother gave it to me. She nevah told me what it was for. Something… extravagant, I think. I want you ta take it." I smiled. He closed his hand into a fist and looked into my eyes. Something changed, his expression was stern, his eyes narrowed. They seemed cold. Like the winter air. I turned towards the end of the bridge and shoved my hands into my pockets. "I'll be seein' ya, Spot." But then again, I probably won't. Anyway, I left him standing there, my key in his hand.

I was kinda sorry I never found out what the key was for. But my mind kept telling me that I would. Somehow I kept thinking that it would bring us back together. One day.

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End

And that's how Spot got his cold, hard expression! And his key! A two in one deal. I know Spot was super out of character in the beginning (I mean, Spot doesn't cry, right?), but that's because that was before he got all stern-faced. Just thought I'd tell you, because really, I don't want to get flamed. Anyway, thanks for the read and I hope you enjoyed it. Review? Even if you just drop a few words, that'd be much loved.


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